Who You Are
by me38242
Summary: Iroh II/Korra/Mako. The Avatar and the Fire Lord have always had intertwined fates. Avatar Korra and Prince Iroh II grew up wondering which parts of their destinies they could change and which parts they should embrace.
1. Ten Years Old

**Chapter 1: Ten Years Old**

* * *

Korra sat silently at the low meal table in the White Lotus compound. She thoughtfully spooned the precious broccoli broth into her mouth as the toes of her leg fidgeted beneath the table. She had long since grown out of her insatiable impatience with everything and, at the age of ten, her White Lotus sentries were relieved to see a more pensive side to her.

Korra was currently deeply engrossed in her earthbending training and it happened to be something particular her tutor had said to her earlier that day which found itself ingrained within her head, insistently rolling over and over again like a forsaken mantra:

"Be not what what your surroundings dictate you be, but rather what _you_ are."

Although she knew it was supposed to reference molding the earth to shape and conform it to her will, she found herself contemplating the statement in other contexts.

It was mind-boggling, but she was obsessed with it. She couldn't quite figure out why that one statement had struck her so profoundly and why she was sitting here quietly at the dinner table, obsessing over its delicate meaning and fragile nuances.

_Be not what your surroundings dictate you be, but rather what_ you _are._

Was there really a difference? Korra wondered, frowning at the swirl of clear liquid in her bowl. Is there a person inside of what you've convinced yourself to be? A layer of truth beneath a supposedly superficial covering, imposed upon you by an intangible and external oppressor?

Her earthbending teacher was, granted, 'very old and very wise,' a description she would commonly attribute to a certain old-persons; Korra had certainly met very many old persons, and as such, would point out the many different types of them which existed, if anything, just to simplify and categorize them in her head.

They were interesting. Some were snarky, some were irritated, some were as impatient as her, while others were dramatically kind, and others simply hid their kindness behind and exterior of aloofness. Her favorite type was the last sort, for they were trickier to figure out at first and oftentimes gave her a joy of time to contemplate.

Her earthbending teacher had many different pebbles of knowledge he would often impart unto her. Having been six years old when she first heard the first pebble drop to the ground, she very infrequently kept them in mind. However, at ten years old, she began to realize that she may now regret having flicked them aside so easily.

_Be not what your surroundings dictate you be, but rather what_ you _are._

Is there a difference? Korra wondered, frowning again.

The screen door off to the side of the room slid open with an audible sound, breaking Korra out of her thoughts. She looked up and saw Master Katara, her old face wrinkled and visibly saddened, walk in. Korra had been quiet recently for more than just a surprisingly thought-provoking statement from her earthbending master; Master Katara's brother, Lieutenant Sokka, had recently passed away.

When she had snuck into Master Katara's room and caught her weeping, Korra had been struck speechless. She had never thought that strong-willed Master Katara would be able to succumb to childish weaknesses. Korra had only willed herself to stop crying—for her mother and her father—in the early days of moving into the compound, after speaking to Master Katara.

Seeing Master Katara cry, had inexplicably sobered Korra. The fact that not everyone was strong; that everyone had their weaknesses, stunned her into silence. Out of respect, she had been particularly careful to not make as much noise or as much of a disturbance during her training for the past few weeks. She had sat still, sullenly, thinking about what Master Katara might have been feeling like for the past few days. How would she feel if she found out that her dad suddenly died?

Perhaps that why Master Fei Zhung's message had gotten through to her.

Katara walked in and Korra visibly stilled and waited for her to approach and sit down. Conspicuously checking her dear mentor's face, Korra decided that Master Katara was, indeed, feeling better.

"Korra, dear, how are you feeling?"

The girl in question blinked. She never truly understand what she was meant to say in response to general questions that were, undoubtedly, meant to just serve as fodder before the real subject of the discussion came out.

"Uhm, fine Master Katara. How are you feeling?"

Katara settled a kind, sad smile on Korra.

"Better now, thank you. I just wanted to let you know that Fire Lord Zuko will be at the Southern Water Tribe very soon. He is here to offer his condolences. He is also very eager to see you, especially since you probably barely remember the last time you two met."

Korra nodded dumbly in response. She was going to meet Fire Lord Zuko. _The Fire Lord Zuko_. The one in all of the story books—the man who single handedly defied his father and was banished to capturing the missing Avatar Aang, before double-crossing his sister and helping the Avatar take down the Fire Nation. _The _Fire Lord _Zuko_.

Of course, she was already very well acquainted with _The Master Waterbender_ Katara_. _But still. This was different, because Master Katara was, well, _Master Katara_. Korra had almost always known her and saw her everyday, so it was really hard (yet not hard, at the same time) to attribute her to all of those old tables. But Fire Lord Zuko was much further removed. She had only heard of him all that he had done; a myth.

Jaw open, Korra blinked, nodding dumbly when one of her guards suggested she dress in the nice clothes that would be lain onto her bed in half an hour.

She would be meeting _The _Fire Lord _Zuko_.

* * *

Fire Lord Zuko was not what the young Avatar Korra expected. She couldn't fathom why she didn't expect this coming, considering Master Katara was old and wrinkly too. But, he was old and wrinkly too.

For some strange, stupid reason, she had expected him to look dashing and young like in all of those pictures in all of those scrolls.

But still, he stood tall, and proud and strong, and even though he was old... He was _scary. _

Thats what she first thought. Until he came over and looked at Katara and his face changed completely and somehow, he seemed really silly and vulnerable even though he was _so_ tall, and Master Katara looked younger than she'd seen ever seen her before.

They spoke in hushed, personal voices for a while as Korra stood in the corner of the room, eyeing the old, imposing, and supposedly valorous man suspiciously.

And suddenly, he turned around and within a second, locked eyes with her. It was kind of scary how suddenly he did that—she was caught in her suspicious staring of him. But his face didn't look so awkward and silly and embarrassed anymore, like it did when he first began to speak to Master Katara. His face was completely blank and his eyes were very, very intensely locked onto hers. Thus, it came off as rather scary.

"Is that her?" he asked Katara in bewildered surprise, as if Korra wasn't standing_ right_ there.

Although Korra seethed in the back of her mind, in reality, she was mildly intimidated, mostly because she had heard so many stories of his firebending prowess. She could firebend a little... and _maybe_ take him on... but at the moment, _really_ wished that firebending training came first instead of water and earth. Hands clenched behind her back, she gulped.

For some reason, wearing a soft and pretty dress, styled with White Lotus designs and markings, made her feel considerably more vulnerable than when she was in her normal water-tribe gear. So it took her a moment until she furrowed her brows dangerously and jut her bottom lip out.

"_I'm_ Avatar Korra. And _you're_ Fire Lord Zuko." She dragged her pupils up and down his form before coming back up to his face. "I think I could take you on. Wanna fight?"

A muffled snicker suddenly came from somewhere far off in the back of the room, behind Master Katara, in the opposite corner of the room from where she was standing.

Unnerved, Korra twisted her body to look around the large, imposing figure of Fire Lord Zuko to assess whoever was standing right there behind Master Katara. Before she could though, Fire Lord Zuko stood forward and stepped toward her.

Korra was broken out of her attempt to address the unidentified laugher because she was suddenly lifted high into the air by two strong, large hands.

Suddenly, the fear came flooding back into her and the contrived confidence rapidly dissapated. Fire Lord Zuko had lifted her up off the ground and had brought her to his eye level.

She was staring at fierce, tired golden eyes, which were scrutinizing her face thoroughly. She took another deep gulp.

And suddenly... his face changed and softened. It was similar to the look he had given Katara as soon as he had gotten close enough to inspect her face; it was reverence.

A small quirk of Fire Lord's Zuko mouth made Korra suddenly think that maybe he really _was_ handsome and dashing like in those scroll drawings, before he turned all old and stuff.

"Hello, Avatar Korra," Fire Lord Zuko finally said, full-out smiling now. His eyes glistened for some strange reason, and Korra decided this old man wasn't all that scary anymore. He did, afterall, help Avatar Aang defeat the Fire Nation and end the Hundred Year War.

Still dangling from his grip from under her armpits, Korra took the opportunity to scrutinize his own face.

"You're older than I thought you would be," she said candidly to him. At that, Zuko grinned wide at her, up close to her face.

"You're much powerful than I thought you would be," he replied. For some strange reason, Korra felt herself blushing in anger.

Zuko smiled at her once more before finally setting her on the ground. One of his hands remained on her back and he turned around to have the both of them face back to Master Katara and the unidentified laugher.

"Korra, this is my grandson, Iroh."

Korra blinked once again, looking up at another tall Fire Nation person. Pale skin, inky hair, and another set of gold eyes. He was much younger though.

Iroh... Iroh... General Iroh was Zuko's Uncle and was a White Lotus guardian who had also turned his back on the Fire Nation to helped Aang end the Hundred Year War.

The thought struck him that she had expected him to be much older than Fire Lord Zuko, and then she realized that the boy in front of her was probably just named after him.

He was much taller than her too, but not as tall as Fire Lord Zuko was. For some reason, Korra now felt an attachment to the big man with the kind eyes and thick flowing red robes, whose hand was still resting on top of her shoulder blades and encouragingly moving her forward to the dining area.

* * *

Iroh looked funny. His neck was too long and his arms were too dangly on his sides. And he looked angry all the time. But, it was no matter, since Korra decided she would much rather entertain the company of Fire Lord Zuko, who, unlike her White Lotus Guards, paid attention to absolutely everything she said and _didn't_ seem like he was just pretending to listen.

Zuko had said that he would be staying at the Southern Water Tribe for two weeks. There were several reasons Korra was especially happy about this: these two weeks had essentially turned into vacation weeks. Her parents were allowed to visit whenever she wanted, and her earthbending training schedule was less consuming because Zuko insisted on giving her some miniature firebending lessons and tended to do so sporadically and whenever he pleased.

And, as a Fire Lord, he had to be accommodated. The only reason, Iroh said, that Fire Lord Zuko had even been able to come here was because the Fire Nation was more or less completely in the capable hands of his daughter.

All in all, Korra was pleased. Fire Lord Zuko was interesting for an old person, even if sometimes he would freeze up and become very awkward around Master Katara, or when he would stare at Korra with the keenest look on his face sometimes—as if he expected her to spontaneously do something.

After the first two days though, Fire Lord Zuko became extremely busy with White Lotus work and Korra found herself inexplicably free with an unsettlingly large amount of spare time in her hands—a strange feeling because her White Lotus tutors always like to give her extra reading material as homework when she was not in combat training.

With nothing to do, she wandered out past the White Lotus Sentry gates, staying within careful view of their watchtowers lest to release their irritating wrath upon herself, and caught sight of the red-cloaked young Prince of the Fire Nation sitting moodly ontop of a hard ice-cased boulder of snow.

Upon closer inspection, Korra noted that he had simply burned the snow surrounding the boulder to give himself a seat upon which to sit. Somehow, the thought of him doing that made her giggle. What a silly way to compose a seat for yourself when you could just build it with two hands.

Iroh shifted and turned, looking over his shoulder to see the young Avatar Korra, laughing and covering her giggles with her three-fingered mittens. He sighed, turning back away from her to go back to gazing at the horizon. The sky in the south pole at this time was curiously a perpetual mix of light orange and murky blue, even in the midst of noon. And as much as he hated this abominable mixture of cold and wetness, it was a pleasant and pensive place to think. And this, for him too, was something of a vacation. He would thank his grandfather for taking him along for the trip, however much he loathed the climate.

"Hello, Prince Iroh," Korra politely greeted him. She folded her hands behind her back, seeming to be the perfect visage of innocence. In reality, she was bored and wanted someone to play with. The older boy seemed much too moody and surly though, so she doubted he would humor her.

His pupils slid to the side, and then back to the front.

"Good evening Avatar Korra. Is there a reason you are out so far here, today?" the Prince asked, seeming to not pay her much favor or attention. Korra frowned.

"No. Just bored."

"Oh."

"What're you doing out here?"

"Thinking."

"Thinking of what?"

Iroh let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes. She would obviously not care much to respect his privacy.

"My problems," he stoicly stated. His problems were _stupid_.

"Oh. You have problems?" Korra asked quizzically, tilting her head. She moved forward and waterbended snow up to make herself a seat of her own two feet a few feet away from Iroh's.

Iroh regarded her casually before responding. "Yes. Why wouldn't we have problems? We each and all have problems." _No matter how ridiculous, pointless and futile they are, _Iroh muttered under his breath.

Korra frowned. After a long silent moment between them, she spoke, "So what problems are bothering you now?"

Iroh sighed. He didn't have many friends, save for one or two, back at home. And this was a young, small Avatar who lived all by herself in a training compound in the middle of nowhere. It wouldn't hurt to tell her, would it?

"See, I... I have this... This girl I like..." Iroh said quietly, his ears turning red. She was ten-years old. She wouldn't tell anyone else. And wouldn't know enough to make fun of him either. This was as safe as he could get.

"Oh." Korra nodded in understanding. "Like the way Aang liked Katara, or Suki liked Sokka."

Iroh frowned. His situation was _not_ comparable to those epic romances. The embarrassing thing is that this couldn't even compare. After hesitating bit, he awkwardly corrected her.

"Not quite. She... doesn't actually know."

Korra's eyes widened in surprise. "Then tell her! Dummy."

Iroh's face reddened completely. He was sixteen years old and being told off by a _ten-year-old._

"Its... not that easy!" he exclaimed loudly and pointedly getting up from his seat.

"Why not?" she bluntly asked. Iroh shook his head. If only his life were as easy as hers; if only if he could be as blunt as her.

But he couldn't be. He wasn't all that important. He was very important, yes, but not the extent that everyone had to listen to his whim. He was important in the way that every single thing he did had to be proscribed.

"She... she doesn't actually know that I exist."

"Then, uh, talk to her?" Korra suggested in a voice that severely irritated him.

"Easy for you to say. When should I do it? In the two second time-space I'm moving from the right wing to my lesson in the central house? Over the heads of thirty people in the nobles' dining halls?" he quipped sarcastically before his voice softened, "I've actually only just... seen her." It was severely embarrassing to admit he'd never even spoken to the girl he was in love with.

Korra nodded, pretending to understand when, in private, she was extremely confused. So he just didn't couldn't talk to her? That was a shame. She enjoyed reading the stories about Sokka and Suki's romance; they made her feel all fluttery inside. It all just seemed so perfect. But from what the Fire Prince was saying, confessing was much harder in real life than how the romantic scrolls made it sound.

Playing around with a snowball in her hand, she suddenly got the urge to chuck it at him.

"Hey!" he yelled, his eyes fuming.

"You needed to cheer up," Korra shrugged. "You're a prince. Can't you just ask your mom or dad to give you some free time to hang out with her?"

Iroh scoffed. "Yeah, right. They're not in charge of my training at all. The curriculum is for all Princes and Princesses. Grandfather didn't have to do any of it because he was banished, and Mother simply loved studying so she didn't mind it. Its not like I hate it, but I'm so tired and all I ever do is study. Modern calligraphy, classical art, modern art, ancient scripts, the history of war, political science, civil engineering, bending science, martial arts, painting... If I had a token of free time in my day... I barely even have any friends."

Korra looked at him curiously as a long moment passed between the two of them. Her days were scheduled too, but she didn't seem to mind the way that he did.

After a moment, Iroh looked up to see the young Avatar gazing at him thoughtfully with a briefly confused look on her face. He then realized that her life was probably proscribed in pretty much the same way. The only difference was that she was allowed to have a smart mouth, whereas he had to _look_ the part of a Prince as well.

"You.. You don't get it," he whispered. "Not only because you're young, but also because you're so secluded," Iroh glanced around at their surroundings, "You're surrounded by snow in a compound. You don't see other kids and wonder what it would be like to be them. When you grow older, you might wonder, but you probably won't care as much because it won't be slapping you in the face everytime you turn a corner and notice someone your age doing something that you can't," Iroh's voice grew more and more bitter as he spoke. "_'Do this, be that'_ is all I ever hear. It doesn't matter if I'm 78 by the time I receive the crown, because I've gotta train anyhow. I'm tired of studying. I'm tired of not being able to do anything else."

Korra was about to interrupt when he abruptly cut her off again. "And besides. You're the Avatar. You aren't the same as everyone else. You're better. Theres a reason for you being seperated. But for me..." Iroh hesitated. "I was just born lucky, or unlucky, however you choose to see it. At the end of the day, any other firebending guy could do what I do. I'm not special just because I was born into royal lineage. It doesn't mean anything—at least, not really."

Korra quieted before speaking. "Thats like saying I was born lucky, too."

"No," Iroh said. "You're the Avatar. You're just... you. The spirit world gave you your fortune. You've always been you. There was no other chance for you to be anyone else."

This one conversation, Korra knew, would remain in her mind for as long as she couldn't find answers to all of the questions that this angry 16-year-old boy was posing to her. She had a feeling it would take more than a small amount of time.

"There was no other chance," Korra repeated his words softly, looking down at the snow contemplatively.

Maybe her earthbending master was wrong. Maybe her surroundings made her; maybe that was who she _is _and always _would_ be_._

Maybe there would be no chance for her to change or mark her own life.

For the first time in her life, she realized what a depressing thought the idea truly was.

* * *

**A/N: This story will indeed have time skips and Mako will be showing up in the context of the actual series pretty soon. :) I do not intend to alter the cannon prior to Episode 10 at all. **


	2. Gaps

**Chapter 2: Through the Ages**

* * *

When Korra was 13, Fire Lord Zuko came on his seventh visit to the Southern Water Tribe compound since the death of Master Sokka.

When The Fire Lord stepped down from his ship, Korra waved happily to him, delighted at the idea of another vacation. And then, to her great surprise, another figure stepped down along with him. He was outfitted in regal armor, so she couldn't recognize him at first, but soonafter realized it was Prince Iroh.

He was bigger now—maybe this was because he was wearing armor—and looked less surly. In fact, he looked downright jovial. She had only seen him three times and he did not often make the visit with his grandfather.

"Prince Iroh was annoying his mother so much that she actually ordered him to come away with me," Zuko commented wryly, giving his grandson a pointed look. Iroh grinned cheekily.

"So I made him practice commandeering the fleet through the journey here," Zuko finished with a smile, watching Iroh's grin rapidly devolve into a frown.

"I take it that things are going smoothly over there?" Katara chuckled.

"Indeed. I expect to officially hand over the throne to my daughter in the forthcoming year. And how is the Avatar doing?"

"I'm doing fine," Korra quipped. "How long are you staying this time, Uh.. Sir, Fire Lord, Your Highness..."

Zuko chuckled. "We'll see. I haven't much work to do these days, but I thought it would be a good experience for Prince Iroh to reconnaissance with General Bumi and get some training under his belt."

Korra, having suddenly remembered his presence, twisted her body to assess the young man standing stiffly by the right-hand side of the Fire Lord. The jovial smile was gone and his face was once again, blank. Korra blinked at his unmoving form curiously.

It always took a few days for Korra and Iroh to get back into the gist of their friendship. After all, friendships hindered by year-long lapses in meetings usually required extensive re-familiarizing.

However, it always took an alarmingly small amount of time for the two to become re-acquainted. Over the years, Korra had grown into a strong, self-assured young woman. She was generally easy to get along with. And she was eager to spar with Fire Prince Iroh, having just begun her Firebending lessons.

When Korra was a curious 13 and Prince Iroh was a rash 19, she had convinced him to kiss her, just so that she could see what it was like.

Iroh, having finally finished his curriculum as a prince, had spent the vast majority of the past two years reveling in the youth he had never experienced. He would often roam the streets of Caldera City with his friends, pretending to be someone he was not.

He was rash these days, and he didn't care.

Korra, on the other hand, was curious, sly and persuasive. Such attributes normally formed when one grew up in a compound and had only the amusement of trying to trick her guards.

Prince Iroh was definitely _not_ the worst person to look at. Somehow, she had convinced him that she sorely needed the experience just for the sake of understanding what it would be like. She had also slightly inebriated him with cactus juice stolen from the White Lotus guards and unknowingly slipped into his drink.

He shrugged, said fine, and ignored the corner of his mind telling him not to humor a quick and witty 13-year-old Avatar. She was thirteen—what would it matter? So he gave her her first kiss, and pushed his lips against hers.

Korra was convinced that her stolid skepticism about those stupid love-story scrolls would be proved once she finally got someone to kiss her. She seriously doubted simply pressing your lips against anothers' could sew magic and truly just wanted to see if kisses were all that big of a deal. She had expected nothing to change. To her great surprise, the kiss itself was not as impacting as the aftereffects were. Instead, everytime she saw Iroh after their kiss, she would tense. Perhaps that meant that kisses really _did_ mean something, if suddenly she got butterflies everytime she looked at him.

It annoyed her simply because she _did not_ have romantic feelings for him. Sure, he was nice to look at it, but he was _so_ deathly boring and depressing sometimes.

Whereas, the first time she'd met him when he was 16, he was upset about his so-called fate, he now seemed to own and take pride in it. To the point where it was really irritating.

When General Bumi came to the compound to greet Fire Lord Zuko and his mother, Master Katara, Korra almost laughed at how Prince Iroh had quickly stiffened his back, saluted the General, and diligently offered to be hazed in his request to be taken under the General's tutelage.

Afterwards, Iroh had regarded her calmly, having notice her criticize his abrupt 180-degree change in demeanor.

"You, as the Avatar, are permitted to have a quick mouth. I, on the other hand, will always be a Prince. Some people think I'm above everyone else, but I'm actually underneath them: I will always serve other people. I have to sound like a Prince, or else I won't _be_ a Prince. But because you are the Avatar, your words are justice in itself. Thats why you don't have to act, as I do. You have no demeanor to retain. You _are_ your demeanor."

Prince Iroh and Fire Lord Zuko stayed three weeks that time. Iroh would train with General Bumi while Katara had off-time from her official firebending training in favor of personal instruction from Zuko. When Zuko was busy and Iroh was with Bumi, Korra would perch herself on the ledge of one of the compound roofs and chuck pieces of ice and rock at Iroh from her hiding place, simply to watch the tick in his forehead grow as he attempted to retain a demeanor of peace and simultaneously give attention to Bumi's words.

* * *

The year that Korra turned fourteen, Prince Iroh's mother was named Fire Lady and Ambassador Zuko visited the Southern Water Tribe for the eighth time. This time, it was to attend an official ceremony in which Prince Iroh, at the age of 20, would be named a Colonel of the United Forces by General Bumi.

Korra flicked a piece of ice at the back of Iroh's head from a rooftop as he got his badge pinned to his chest.

Iroh would have seethed and anger, not one to tolerate this type of annoyance, save for the fact that he found a mischievous grin gracing his face instead.

Avatar Korra, as immature as the fourteen-year-old was, was also simultaneously a breath of fresh air from his _real life_. Although she shared many of the same duties and responsibilities as him, she never failed to somehow make him feel _younger_, and less burdened with the weight of the world.

Ironic, considering the person who literally had the weight of the world was, rather, she herself.

With a private grin on his face and his back turned to her as he faced to the ceremonial proceedings, he focused on his awareness and melted the snow off the roof she was perched upon. The grin turned into a full-blown smile when he heard a shriek and the loud thud of her petite body promptly plopping on the ground.

* * *

When Korra was sixteen and Iroh was 22, he noticed that he paid much more attention to the letters from Master Katara than he probably should.

The one time that his fleet had detoured the Southern Water Tribe to survey the borders of some Earth Kingdom shipping routes, he had only been able to stay one day, but it was long enough to notice... that Korra had grown into a _woman_.

And although it was awkward at first, and he had stuttered, they truly were good at re-familiarizing themselves quickly. Before he knew it, they were pitching snowballs at each other and laughing like they had not had an 11-month gap in acquaintance.

For as long as he could remember, she had always made him feel younger, chiefly because she didn't allowed the weight of the world sitting on her shoulders debilitate her demeanor.

When Korra was 17 and Iroh was 23, Avatar Korra telegraphed him for help on behalf of Councilman Tenzin and Republic City.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter: my headcanon for the upcoming episode 11, based off of the prelude I did right here ;) Please leave reviews and your thoughts on this!**


	3. Turning the Tides

**Chapter 3: Turning the Tides**

* * *

Mako, Korra, and Bolin were caught deep in the throes of battle. Amon had shifted tactics, having already rounded the vast majority of benders-by-trade. Now, the masked man was trying to capture and equalize all the bending _children _of the city—it was at this point that Korra released her unstable and quivering dam of patience and refused to sit still and hide.

Equalizing benders who were potential antagonizers was mildly justified. However, demonizing innocent children who had yet to use their bending was a completely different matter. Asami had already been injured yesterday and was being cared for by refugee centres down in the tunnels of the city. This left Mako, Korra and Bolin to stake it out at the city's central daycare, where equalists were kidnapping bending children and taking them away. For once in her life, Korra thanks the heavens that the equalists did not use homocide to put down their enemies. Relinquishing bending was bad, but it was nothing compared to murdering children. But even so, honestly, the three of them weren't doing so well.

Bolin had already suffered several electrocutions, and while Mako was trying his best redirect the electricity targeted at him, it was soon becoming painfully clear that bending lightening and controlling electricity were not exactly synonymous skills. Once he realized that he could no longer feel the nerves in his right arm, in the back of his mind, Mako began to panic. However, when he turned his head over his shoulder and saw Korra continue to fight with her shoulder bands torn up and her top slashed over a bloodied stomach, he convinced himself that he needed to keep going despite the fact that he had no feeling in his shoulders anymore. He had strategically been maneuvering himself in front of Bolin so that he would take the first line of assault and Bolin dealt with the residue of any attacks he missed.

Korra, on the other hand, had placed herself out of his line of sight completely and was presently taking on three or four machines simultaneously. The equalists had been concentrating their forces in her direction and Mako worriedly wondered whether or not they had finally been given direct orders to capture the Avatar. He was just about to yell at Bolin to run over to Korra's side and give her some extra cover when he tried, and undoubtedly failed, to bend away the electricity simultaneously thrown at him from two different automatons. His words were cut off and replaced by a loud groan as his body spasmed in mid-air.

He came to, not a moment later, having the luck to have experienced electric shocks during his lightening-training. Other benders who did not have such prior experiences were often immediately knocked out once they came in contact with Equalists. But even Mako could only take so many electric shocks before he passed out, and he bitterly knew he was reaching his limit pretty soon. They had been in this fight not only five minutes and he was already tiring at an alarmingly fast pace.

Suddenly, the whirs of jet fleets surrounded over them and Mako breathed a sigh of relief and wonder as he peripherally noticed the sign of the United Forces instead of that of the Equalists. It was their third day of hiding out and the second of which they had begun actively fighting, and the forces had finally arrived.

Mako, Bolin and Korra were relieved by a sudden onslaught of white, green, and red-clad warriors jumping out of the air-ships. Two dozen of them immediately circled Avatar Korra with their backs to her in a protective stance. He noticed that she, on the other hand, had completely ignored their presence around her and retained her fighting stance, bending water long-range from a sewage tunnel.

Mako, on the other hand, had relaxed once the United Force members had begun taking over the fight for him. The equalist automatons were quickly outnumbered to three to four of the agents. Having assessed that his stamina was at its near-end already, Mako wearily stepped back although he did not want to.

The soldiers were all clad in uniform clothing, but despite this fact, they were some of the most skilled and trained footmen Mako had ever seen. They were slowly and methodically pushing the Equalist machines back away from where Korra and Mako were, efficiently dismantling them by working together.

A figure, outfitted not in a uniform, but rather regal and commanding plainclothes, suddenly jumped up in front of them and with ease, redirected a stream of electricity in a form Mako had not yet seen before.

The man's form was different from even those of the other United Forces soldiers. When he bent the electricity away, his arms made a sweeping gesture in the form of a semi-circle and his stance was wide with his knees bent, similar to Korra's style before she had begun probending. All of his moves were of a different form than what Mako had grown up knowing or using.

The direction of fire seemed to take much longer when the man firebent, but there was something behind the man's moves that made his attacks have more control and power. Although Mako could only see the man's red-clad back, it was coated with both authority and confidence, and with sudden realization, Mako realized that the man was bending in the traditional style of Fire.

His mouth turning down, Mako frowned as he watched him. The traditional style was exceptionally hard to learn, and much less harder to master. That was mostly the reason why it was usually forgone in favor of more recent, modern methods of firebending. The man must be not only very powerful, but also very important to have been trained and become so adept in the traditional style. It wasn't even the normal aged form that Korra used, but rather the ancient style traditionally taught by the Fire Sages in the Fire Nation temples.

He then realized this was the General of the United Forces.

* * *

The United Forces had laid a new siege to Republic City as soon as they had arrived. The trained soldiers swiftly began scouring and securing the city, waging war right back where Korra and Team Avatar had been unable to. As Air Temple Island was on the outskirts of Yue Bay, General Iroh had procured its safety and stationed the majority of his fleet within its parameters first and foremost. It was made into a home base, refugee and recuperation center; soldiers were sent out from the Island to the city to locate Amon's whereabouts and they returned in shifts to rest up and sleep.

It was there that Korra, Mako, and Bolin returned. Within a matter of hours of the United Forces' arrival, the Air Temple had been completely transformed. Sentries were stationed at every door and entranceway while inside, the Air Accolades were assisting United Force medics of different nationalities. The Island itself was seeing a flurry of activity as soldiers continued to stream in and out, having their wounds treated before being dispatched again to the mainland to continue their search and seizure of equalists and Amon.

It was amidst this flurry that Mako woke, sitting up from his treatment bed and immediately torn with anger that he had unknowingly been knocked out.

Nevertheless, he immediately got up, acutely aware of the hundreds of wearied new faces and uniforms walking purposefully around the halls of Tenzin's home, which had immediately been turned into both a hospital and barrack. The United Force soldiers seemed to be taking shifts in their attacks in Republic City.

Looking out the window briefly, Mako caught sight of the city and noted that the chaos was definitely dying down methodically and efficiently. He doubted Amon was found yet, for everyone walking by had coffee cups in hand and dark bags underneath their eyes.

Finding his top to cover up his white undershirt with, Mako walked out of the room to quickly locate Korra and Bolin. Walking out of his room, he immediately noticed Bolin sleeping in an undershirt in the room beside his, a bottle of liquid on the night table beside the bed. Undoubtedly the liquid that had knocked him out and rejuvenated his strength too. In the room beside his, Asami was also lying down, asleep.

Korra had had enough trauma in the past two days—had they knocked her out too? Twice in less than a week was too much.

Storming through the wooden halls, bypassing hundreds of uniformed United Force soldiers with their helmets casually off, Mako searched for Korra.

He finally found her in her room, but she was sitting up instead of asleep.

The dark-haired man Mako had seen firebending in the traditional Fire Nation style was sitting in a chair pushed up to the side of the bed Korra was sitting cross-legged on top. Along with them was another man wearing a uniform signifying his higher status in the army. The three seemed deep in conversation. Mako paused before entering, gauging that the three of them were re-briefing Republic City's current state. He could help, there.

"Mako!" Korra exclaimed as he walked in with purpose, his red scarf billowing behind him. His brows furrowed in tense worry as he looked her over to assess her state.

"Korra, are you alright? Did you get knocked out too?" he anxiously asked, searching her eyes.

"No, Mako, I'm fine," Korra reassured him, albeit tensely. Undoubtedly, she was worried about the war currently being waged on Republic City. From the corner of his eye, Mako noticed that she had bandages over her upper arms and over her water-tribe shirt. "Guys, this is Mako. He's the captain of the probending team I've been playing on," Korra introduced.

The General turned over to nod politely at him. "Pro-bending? Interesting... I hadn't heard about your involvement in that."

"Well, I was only on the team for three months," Korra shrugged. The man standing off to the side crossed his arms and looked impatient for a moment, undoubtedly because the conversation had veered off dramatically.

"Lets go back to the point," the man standing beside lightly suggested, turning back to them, "So you said that Amon's prisoners were found in an underground area before? We'll need earthbenders to scour out the City's corners at low ground level then."

"Yep. Thats how we got away with a makeshift refugee camp underground, where you guys probably found Asami," Mako said. "They didn't expect us to go back to the place we knew that they came from. And it was also practically empty of equalists by then because they were all above ground. It was our safest bet."

The General nodded authoritatively.

"The waterbenders should locate the area with the lowest ground levels first, and then start a first dispatch of earthbender soldiers in V-formation starting from the outer edges of the bay, approximately 2 miles apart each." The General's brows furrowed as he concentrated on the plan formulating inside his head. "They should take 15 minutes in each 225 square feet parameter before moving forward a city block. Have them wire me as soon as one of them finds something. The offensive soldiers should still be covering the city as we speak, but make sure the earthbender operations underground stay _covert_. We might be able to take their plan and move our bases underground to secure the city from the inside."

The man standing to the side nodded an affirmative, saluted the General, and quickly marched out past Mako. The plan was to move their base from the Air Temple to the underground of the city, thereby pushing all of the Equalists out and above ground at once. Once he was gone, Korra spoke.

"Wow. I thought you would hate this stuff," Korra said with a note of surprise in her voice.

"Its not that hard... And people change," the General replied softly before pausing. "So what else do you two know about the Equalists?"

Mako stepped even closer, narrowing his eyes at the dark-haired General. Although he wasn't pressuring Korra for information even though the situation was dire right now, it still slightly irked him.

Mako and Korra both launched into a comprehensive debriefing of all that happened since Korra had first arrived on the island. It was only when they told him about Korra's kidnapping that the General interrupted.

"What?" he exclaimed, for the first time since Mako had encountered him. "They knocked you out and locked you up in a metal cage?"

Korra shifted sheepishly and nodded. Mako frowned. She hadn't elaborated on the details when she had told Tenzin about her capture over the dinner table because they didn't have the time.

Watching the exchange between General Iroh and Korra, Mako realized they had probably been closely acquainted with one another before. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the foreign man, noting the gelled-back hair and his expensive clothing. He obviously radiated wealth.

* * *

Mako, Bolin, General Iroh, and Korra found themselves all downstairs in the large common dining area normally used for the Air Accolades. Many of the soldiers who were off-duty at that time were also standing with their food outside due to a lack of available space inside. It seemed that the General made it a point to eat with his men.

"It establishes a sense of camaraderie," he explained to Bolin as they had walked down the corridors to the dining hall, his eyes looking forward instead of directly at the earthbender. "In battle, we are all one and the same, without rank or modest semblances of superiority such as those signified by mere trifles of badges or caps."

Walking significantly further off behind them, Mako scowled. He didn't like Iroh. Perhaps it was the fact that the General was so obviously raised in wealth, seemed to sound the slightest bit conceited, or because he seemed so self-assured. But then the man would go ahead and say something as noble as what he just did, and would promptly shut down all of Mako's justifications for hating him. It made Mako hate him even more.

He idly recalled what the return telegraph from the United Forces said: "The General looks forward to taking back Republic City... Together, with the Avatar."

Well, Iroh and the Avatar did indeed seem close. Whereas he was stiff to all his soldiers and commandants, he would often make slight and off-hand remarks to Korra that alluded to a personability that came with years of companionship.

Sitting gloomily at a table with Bolin and Asami, Mako stared across the room at Korra and the General, who stood side by side and picked out their food from the buffet table set up against the far wall of the dining common room. Bolin nodded at them. "He's pretty cool, isn't he, the General? Korra and him probably grew up together."

_Of course they would grow up together_, Mako repeated in his head suddenly, not knowing why the thought made him frown. He watched her laugh at something he said, a serving spoon in one of her hands and a plate in the other. Their backs were turned to the table the rest of Team Avatar was sitting at.

_Of _course_ they would grow up together. She's the_ _Avatar, for goodness' sake. She was trained by Master Katara. Why wouldn't she encounter Fire Nation princes while growing up?_

Important people met important people. She lived in _Councilmen Tenzin'_s home. Korra had been important since birth.

But that didn't justify -

"HEY!" Mako stood up and shouted suddenly, pointing at the backs of General Iroh and Korra, who were too far away to hear his furious and indignant protest.

"What?" Asami loudly snapped at her boyfriend, eyes narrowing at him as she glanced at where he was staring.

"He's... He's..." Mako stuttered weakly, sitting back down and not dislodging his stare from them. "Did you _see _that?" he asked Bolin and Asami incredulously.

"See _what_?" Asami asked slowly and venomously, not sounding at all interested in his answer.

"That General just... He just..." Mako's mouth dropped open again in astonishment. "He just brushed his elbow up against the side of her chest!"

Against her_ chest! The General's elbow just brushed up against the side of her chest. They were standing too close together! How dare he! _

Bolin turned to face the direction Mako was pointing at and then let out a low wolf-whistle.

"Whoo-hoo! Someones gettin' it on!" Bolin whistled.

"Shut up, Bolin," Mako snapped at his brother, turning to glare at him. "What does he think he's doing?" he growled lowly, going back to survey their backs.

"Whats the problem here, Mako?" Asami asked again, glaring at him from across the table with her eyes lidded.

Finally noticing her imminent and threatening anger, Mako turned to Asami.

"Nothing, Asami. I just... don't want him taking advantage of her," Mako gulped.

"No offense bro, but she's the Avatar. I'm pretty sure she can take care of herself," Bolin stated.

Mako felt like throwing a punch at his brother. Sure, Korra was the Avatar, but that _didn't_ mean she didn't need to be taken care of.

"Yeah, Bolin is right. I think the real question is why you _care_ so much," Asami glared at Mako. He huffed and looked away from her, breaking eye contact.

"Look. Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"Like where? When? Never?" Asami shot back before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "You know, I'm glad for Korra. She deserves much better than you. You don't even know what you want." Asami slammed her hands on the table, got up and walked away from them. Bolin stared at her back, eyes wide.

"Woah. You really messed up there, bro."

"Shut up, Bolin! _You're_ the one who told her about the kiss!"

"Hey, its not like it didn't happen!" Bolin defended himself, raising his hands up in front of him. Mako shook his head wearily. At this point he was more disappointed in himself than in the stupid situations he allowed himself to get into. "And its not like you actually like Korra anyway," Bolin continued to say.

At that, Mako tensed up. Still staring down at his folded arms on the table, Mako felt his lips purse and his pupils slide off to the side. Did he _really_ not like Korra?

"And yo, they're like perfect!" Bolin suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. "Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin were best friends turned enemies, Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko were enemies turned best friends, and Avatar Korra and _future_ Fire Lord Iroh? Best friends turned lovers. Its perfect."

Mako felt his jaw drop inside his closed mouth as each and every one of Bolin's words fell from his mouth.

_Avatar Roku and Fire Lord Sozin were best friends turned enemies. _

_Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko were enemies turned best friends. _

_Avatar Korra and the future Fire Lord Iroh, best friends turned... _

No, Mako finally thought. No.

* * *

**A/N: Thoughts so far? ;)**

**I haven't decided to make this Makorra or Korroh. Leave a review if you have any suggestions about the pairing. Right now, it can go both ways. **

**A few thoughts on Iroh: In the two-second screencap, I realized that he's like the cartoon version of Daniel Henney. (google him). **

**And I realize that Bryke is probably doing fanservice. I mean Legend of Korra only exists because of the huge fanbase after the end of ATLA. So it makes sense they'd do fanservice. Some of is just so obvious though:**

**1) "Endgame"? Bryke has tumblr! They know these terms.**

**2) So... Zuko and Katara are the only ones still alive...**

**3) In order to make EVERYONE happy, they made sure that ALL pairings are actually canon. Borra = canon; Bolin liked Korra. Makorra = cannon; they kissed. Masami = canon; they were together. Linzen = canon; they were together. Even Ikki said Mako was handsome. and Meelo said Asami was beautiful.**

**And then Iroh said, "I look forward to taking back Republic City... _Together, with the Avatar_" - KORROH = CANNON.**

**What is fanservice? Making EVERYONE happy. Lol. But to be completely honest; I'm serious. This fandom is crazy. Everyone blew up after Asami said, "I like Korra" in episode 10. making Korrasami cannon too.. This is getting ridic yo's. ;)**


	4. In Time

**Chapter 4: In Time**

* * *

When the United Forces, under the command of General Iroh II, was within 2 days of Republic City, he began giving out orders.

The General first disclosed the rotational shift schedule so that everyone could adjust their sleep cycles before landing. Then he gave them their first official order.

"Find the Avatar. Surround her and separate her from the line of fire."

Everyone in the room was visibly taken aback. However, only his Lieutenant had the courage to question him. "Sir... Wouldn't having the Avatar in combat be a more useful battle tactic instead?"

Silence fell between them until the General finally spoke.

"The Avatar," he started slowly, "is a _seventeen year old _girl," he finished with a hardened edge to his voice.

* * *

General Iroh had not expected to encounter Avatar Korra upon immediate landing at Republic City. He saw his soldiers surround one figure and begin to push Equalist forces back from it but it took him a while to realize that the young woman spouting water up from a sewage drain was the same girl who had made fun of his fledgling crush when he was sixteen.

He was rather relieved when his medics had knocked her out on the ship on their way back to Air Temple Island. It allowed _him_ the time to recuperate and re-stabilize himself with the new person that was the Avatar he'd always known. In all honesty, Korra was never the awkward one when it came to their meetings after year-long gaps. It was usually him who didn't know what to say.

So, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he observed her carefully and scrutinized her face as medics began rapidly treating her wounds. Her face had lost much of its baby fat. Her hair had gotten longer. Her body had filled out.

He wondered, mildly, whether her personality had changed as much as her physique had.

What he received when he woke, however, was not what he had expected. He was surprised, of course, but on some level, had been waiting for it the entire time he had known her.

Korra, Iroh realized soon after, had finally begun to bear the weight of the world. The weight that she, perhaps, had always known of, but had never truly considered.

Idly, he supposed that it would be hard to ignore it when faced with turmoil around every street corner and a war waged upon the very essence of your being. When you were the cause of its discourse and the only beacon of its survival: bending.

Iroh, when Korra wasn't looking, took a deep gulp. She had changed. She had changed before his eyes, and he wasn't quite sure what to do or how to deal with it. Her eyes were weary; her shoulders now slumped.

She was still as fierce and determined as ever, but there was a certain wariness to her soul. The same exact wariness she had worked so hard to relieve him of when he was just a bit younger than she was now.

When he was 16 and she was just 10, he had walked into her life with weariness set upon his shoulders, on the brink of falling off a cliff. He had been sick of his duties, his responsibilities, the weight of his title and all the burdens that he bore. The fact that it deprived him of a real life.

And now, he was sitting beside her at a dining table in the Air Accolade temple, watching as she finally bore a weight of her own. He had always known it would be heavier than his.

He had simply not expected it to impact her so soon.

He recalled standing beside her as they were picking up their food from the dining table buffets. Words spilled from her mouth as they caught up on the past year of their lives and they were different; more controlled, more mature, more subdued. The realization sobered him and sparked a light within him all at once. Her smiles weren't loud and bright like they used to be, but graceful and private. As if her happy thoughts were inside her head and he could only see the briefest glimpse of them reflected in her outer shell.

It made him want to know more of what she had been through in his absence. He knew he was hiding a fair share of his own secrets; but his were unimportant. He wanted to know hers. He wanted to see what had so rapidly devolved and changed her.

He couldn't resist the urge to stand close to her as she spoke. His arms brushed hers as they'd talked. The feelings of her breasts pressing against his elbow alighted a different sort of fear within him; she was no longer a girl. She was an equal. No longer the little girl who had begged him for a kiss, or someone ready to patronize or tease.

His attraction was reflected in body language. He was glad she wasn't scared off by it yet.

And as he spooned on a dish of mashed potatoes to his plate, he was struck with the realization that he wanted to consume her. Be consumed _by_ her and the sheer enigma of the essence she embodied.

It was in the ironic tilt of her words; her snarky comebacks. The fact that she wasn't afraid to call him out during his more irrational moments. The fact that she had known him before he became who he was today; before he had decided to embody and embrace his identity and presence as Prince of the Fire Nation. In the past 4 hours of their re-acquaintanceship, she had already called him out on who he truly was, twelve times.

He was perpetually naked before her.

And after a while, sitting down at the table chosen by her friends in the Air Accolade dining hall and noticing the close proximity with which she had seated herself right beside him, he wagered to bet that this newfound revelation was not lost on her.

And then there was the fact that he had suddenly placed his hand over hers on the table in front of her friends. Well, he wasn't really ever one for subtlety, anyway. He was more used to getting what he wanted quick and soon.

And with the way that the firebending guy, her pro-bending captain, was glaring at him, he wagered to bet that 'quick and soon' would be soon required.

* * *

Mako scowled, eyeing the shift of movement that had placed Iroh's hand over Korra's on the table. And in front of them all, much less. In fact, the whole dining hall, filled with United Forces, was ogling the two open-eyedly and whispers began to reverberate around the room.

_The General_ had his hand over _Avatar Korra's_ on the dining table!

Asami had returned to the table, and this time, sat far away from Mako. Instead, she seated herself on the other side of Iroh.

"So," she started, "Do you guys know each other from before?" she asked casually. Korra tensed. Mako glared at the two suspiciously, waiting for an answer to Asami's question.

"We jus—"

"—It's complicated," Iroh cut her off. He noticed the firebender boy seething from the corner of his eye. His pupils slid to the side to glance at Korra before returning again. "I'm a pretty unforgettable kisser," he teased suddenly.

Mako got up and forcefully slammed his hands loudly against the table.

"Look! Don't you think you're a little too old for Korra?" Mako asked the General, hostility etched into his posture. Iroh stood up from his seat and faced him eye to eye.

The two men stared at each other. Both shared the same golden eyes, pale skin, thick brows, and dark ink-colored hair color. But while Iroh had his locks gelled and combed to the side-part, Mako's flipped up in a cowlick messily. With heeled military boots on, Iroh stood slightly taller than him. Nonetheless, they shared the same physique and Fire Nation coloring.

They were both firebenders. But while Mako had never set foot in the Fire Nation in his life, Iroh was its Prince.

"I'm 23."

Everyone around at the table, save Korra, had looks of surprise on their faces.

"Oh," Mako stated, momentarily speechless. He blinked slowly. "Well, you look a lot older," he said.

Iroh had deep frown lines permanently etched between his brows. The heavy, dark circles of sleeplessness drawn beneath his eyes gave off the image of a man beyond his years. He knew it was true.

A bitter presence washed over the General's face. His eyes hardened before he spoke once again.

"I've been told. It tends to happen when you spend your entire life pouring over books, training, and on the sea," he stated emotionlessly before stepping out of his seat. He left the dining hall without glancing back.

He was a Prince of the Fire Nation. His title made him who he _was_. He would not regret it or lament the cause of his being or any repercussions of it. And he would live _up_ to that title as well.

A prodigy General has its merits. And its downfalls. He couldn't expect a pro-bending loser like Mako to understand.

_It was all required of him._

* * *

Iroh's orders didn't work. As soon as Korra was recuperated enough to stand up and hold her bearings, she demanded to be on the battlefield. She refused, even, to follow a shift schedule such as the one Iroh had assigned for his men.

She was raging. And somehow, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Because looking at her like this made him feel more alive than ever.

For the smallest amount of time, Iroh had been afraid that Korra, newly burdened with the weight of her title as the Avatar, had sunken into herself. That her mild grace and newfound patience was a symbol of darker, more tumultuous things raving around in her head—the depression that he, too, had suffered from at her age.

But her rage belied these thoughts. So, despite the turmoil he put his men through, who were beholden to follow through his orders but inexplicably failing to do so, he could not say no to her.

The only thing he could do was convince her that covert operations were a much more important matter than patrolling the city streets. At least this way, she would be out of sight and out of the way of the main conflict. She would work underground, trying to find the base of Equalist operations. There were many opportunities to stay out of conflict in such an assignment.

Iroh guessed that Amon wouldn't be at the home base in light of the full-blown conflict ravaging the city. The Equalist seige was undoubtedly a product of months and years of careful planning. Amon would be at the head of it, out and about, neutralizing benders set upon a factory production line.

So if Korra insisted on being out on the front lines, he might as well have her underground, where she had little capability to get caught and had more of a chance to adequately protect herself.

Yet, to his agitated annoyance, Mako insisted on following her as well. Iroh could not possibly waste his resources and time on a covert mission like this; he was needed at the command center, dispatching ships and fleets from the base of operations. With begrudging hate and thinly disguised contempt for the other firebender, he let the two go, having a steward acquire black stealth suits and bandannas for the two.

What Iroh did not expect, however, was Amon's presence underground.

He did not expect Amon to capture Korra and face her. Had not imagined gloved fingertips tilting her forehead back slowly and taunting her.

He could not forsee the firebender he loathed, restrained and screaming her name in agony.

He had not expected any of it all.

* * *

**A/N: So I was rewatching the screencap for the season finale at the end of Episode 10 and looked closely at some of the brief scene glimpses. **

**First off, did not see General Iroh anywhere (Nickelodeon might be hiding him). Secondly, Korra and Mako were most definitely dressed up in black ninja clothing underground.**

**The thing is, I don't want to make any harsh decisions here; I don't really want to embed "predictions" of how the Season One "final battle" will play out since its coming out this Saturday. If my predictions end up being _totally_ way off, I'll be sad. I wanna stick to the cannon as close as possible... But I still want to continue my storyline nonetheless. Which is why I included that bit in the end. **

**So do you guys think I should let my story simply glaze over the details of the _actual_ battle? (I mean, we all know Korra doesn't _die_... cause theres obviously a season two. So I could continue the story without discussing what happened in the actual showdown).**

**I could also, for the next chapter, ****write what my prediction/ potential version of would have happen in the showdown / ideal situation that would happen. **

**Thanks for your votes guys! They matter! :) (And they make me update sooner!) **

**If you guys pick option one, we'll probably have a tiny time skip and move on with the theme. **


	5. To Be

**Chapter 5: To Be**

* * *

Iroh realized it had been a while since he had, by common terms, had... 'fun.'

During the majority of his life at the palace, he had been consumed by books, studies, training and tutors. Endless hours upon hours were devoted to his studying. His mother had no sense of leniency when it came to his studies.

When he had finally finished the royal curriculum for consorts, generals and monarchs, he had two years of free time before being expected to take on an apprenticeship. Most would have taken on an apprenticeship immediately, but Iroh had no interest in continuing his plight to be a royal dog.

He had had lost a fair share of odd memories from those two years, wasted away in drink and prostitutes. He had been 19 years old and desperate to catch up on a life he had never had the option to see. Most would have grown into it in moderation, but Iroh had had not had that lucky option. So he had been utterly and totally consumed by it.

Surrounded by vague court acquaintances who were the only ones he could call his 'friends', he was introduced to the wonders of the Fire Nation commoner culture. With rich nobles' sons, he found himself toxically spending nights bent over barstools in caverns and bars, drunk and without cares.

Eventually, he sobered and realized there was more to life than just _experiencing_. There was duty, and responsibility, and _purpose._

Between the years of 18 and 19, he had been rash. And the only reason he did not regret that certain phase of his life to this day was because of a few words his lieutenant once imparted to him. It was on a dreary, late night in his cabin shortly after he had made Admiral. Between a few drinks, he confessed the state of his life before he had begun his tumultuous and rapid journey up the naval ranks.

"It's called being 'burned out'," the man had said to him in response. To this day, the Lieutenant was the only long lasting 'friend' he considered. "Given your restrictive and demanding upbringing," he had said calmly to Iroh, "One could not do anything but expect rash and rebellious behavior at your adolescence. You did well in your studies, didn't you? Or else you wouldn't be where you are today. You were burned out," the white-clad man had stated to his captain emotionlessly.

Iroh had nodded, feeling his eyes droop, but the words stayed with him long after. _It had been expected_.

Why did those four words bring comfort to him? The _idea_ of expectation. Somehow, it swathed a warm feeling in his chest. Somehow, it made his eyes burn—made him think of his mother, so serious and consumed by her work that she had neglected him for much of his life. It was mostly his grandfather and uncles that had raised him.

The idea that something was _expected_ made everything feel better. It would be _expected_ that he would have acted in such a way after finally finishing up his education.

It would be _expected_ that his mother would act in such a way—she was Fire Lady.

It was _expected_ that he would be so consumed in his studies that he would lack intra-personal relationships; _expected_ because he was a special person. It was all... just... _expected._

It comforted him.

He had confessed to his Lieutenant about the lowest point in his life. And the man had made him feel better about it; the experience and dearth of memories that had been plaguing him ever since he started working under General Bumi stopped plaguing him.

Redemption, he considered, was partially what had inspired him to work so hard and climb high up the ranks so quickly.

So in the end, the truth was, Iroh, in a long time, had not had any—in a common way—'fun'.

Korra had brought that to an end yesterday. First, she had sparred with him yesterday. And then, she had taken Naga out and ran her through the city, giving him a heart-stopping tour of Republic City. It had been, in the purest sense, _fun_. She brought him to a local water-tribe cuisine restaurant and then to an astonishingly authentic Fire Nation dessert bar.

Now, she was sitting his cabin room in the Air Temple's buildings.

The Republic was still rebuilding and Amon was still on the loose, but the battle was over and the situation was momentarily stable. He had sent out agents to scour out the surrounding cities and provinces, keeping an eye out for any sightings or potentials for uprisings. His army men were diligently working on finding his trail and while Iroh knew that he could be doing more useful things with his time right now, despite the forces he'd already dispatched to the outer provinces, he just didn't want to.

He wanted to let Korra stay in his room rather than kick her out and chart out maps like he meant to.

The girl had brought him, for one of the first times in life, to the experience of 'fun' yesterday. As such, a semblance of appreciation was due. He could stand to wait a bit before kicking her out.

And also, he was enamored.

A loud, brash laugh left Korra uninhibitedly. Although Amon was still on the loose, Korra had relaxed significantly, the success of the battle assuaging her immediate fears.

In the back of his mind, Iroh knew that this was a bad tactic—winning a battle does not mean winning the war—but he couldn't bring himself to correct her sentiments or feelings. She was 17 years old and had already beared a heavy burden for her age. He had been terrified when she had fallen to the Avatar State.

He knew it wasn't wise for her personal growth to shelter her and allow her to relax in a false sense of security. But right now, he wanted to. She was seventeen.

Her laugh was loud and uninhibited, as if the battle had never happened. He liked it this way.

Unfortunately... It was also so uninhibited that he could hear the bark of unadulterated criticism in it. His mouth turned down and his brows furrowed worriedly. What was she looking at? Her back was turned to him, so he craned his neck to see what she had picked up and was looking at in her hands.

Oh no_. Oh no. _

"You write _poetry?"_ Korra squealed in giddy and uncontrolled laughter. Iroh, face turning very red, rapidly ran over to the other end of the room to attempt to pull the book out of her hands.

_Yes. He wrote poetry. What was the problem with that? He was a _gentlemen._ Gentlemen wrote poetry. He had been _trained_ to write poetry. _

He grabbed the book from her hands fiercely, shutting it closed in one hand with a loud thump. With the book in his hand, he stood towering over her, cornering her close against the bookshelves she had been previously been perusing.

"Yes," he curtly replied, glaring down at her, so close to his chest. His face, if possible, was turning even redder, but his solid, confident voice did not betray it at all. "What _of_ it?" he demanded, willing his face not to belie his true embarrassment. He pushed her closer to the wall.

He noticed Korra getting more and more awkward as he leaned in closer to her. His chest pushed closer against her smaller form, his arms raised up around the sides of her heads threateningly and held up on the bookshelf by either side of her head.

Usually sure and confident, Korra now stuttered. She looked away, pushing herself backwards into the shelves and away from him.

"I... I... Uh..." Korra raised her chin in a show of false confidence, though her eyes looked down and off to the side self-consciously. "I, just, uh... Didn't expect that."

Iroh grinned privately, staring down at her visibly uncomfortably and squished form between the bookshelf and close to his chest. Her awkward, nervous, stuttering, form amused him. But this had been enough punishment for her, he decided. He leaned back away from her.

Turning around with the book in his hand and his back to her, he finally let his grin escape and claim his face, nostalgically recalling Korra's awkwardly stuttering form against his chest.

As he reached his desk, he trained his face to return to a blank slate once again and turned around.

"So, did you have fun?" he asked the Avatar patronizingly. _Are you done?_

It was a cue, a not-so-subtle signal for her to leave. After all, he _did _really have actual work to do. And just because he enjoyed having her presence here didn't mean it was conducive to his work.

Having regained her bearings, Korra seemed to have returned to her sense of self with newfound fervor. Fervor directed at _whom_, he wasn't quite sure, but nonetheless, it was there. It was exciting, he decided, and almost made him want to egg her on more.

After seeing her get so flustered by being in close proximity to him, seeing her now frown angrily with arms crossed over her chest, made him nearly smile.

She was strong. He liked to see her vulnerable. But he also liked to see she was strong.

"No," she said forcefully, "I'm not."

She walked over to him, slammed her hands on his table, and leaned in close to his face over his desk.

_Ah. _So now she was trying to show that she _wasn't_ scared of the close body contact. Iroh smirked and looked up at her face, millimeters from his, purposefully looking particularly bored and unaffected. An amusing game to play, he would admit. Women his age probably wouldn't bother with this; too busy with what their wants—a bed headboard—or money.

Korra was... refreshing. Innocent.

She narrowed his eyes at him. "So..." she started, "_General_ _Iroh,_" she spat out unkindly.

He smirked. "Yes?" he replied, equally as insolently. He saw irritation cloud her face quickly at the sarcastic response. His eyesight traveled over face. They fell onto her plump, lush lips and he gently caressed the lips with his pupils.

She seemed to visibly notice his eyes dropping down her face, for suddenly, she tensed. The voice in her head chastised her for freezing up again.

She struggled to grasp her proud self and show that she was _not_ so affected by his presence. She was _seventeen_ years old for La's sake. She wasn't 13 and a flustering, blustering, untrained little girl anymore.

But why was it _so _hard?

She noticed his eyes were still focused to the bottom of her face and took the opportunity of his lack of eye contact to speak. _Poetry_ was what he was embarrassed about. _Concentrate, Korra. Get back at him and make him pay._

"What exactly... do you write about?" she narrowing down at him. _Stop staring at my lips!_

Realizing that close proximity with him was not her strong suit, she pulled back from his face to stand stolidly on the other side of his desk. She faced the man with a simultaneously aloof and challenging look.

Leaning back as well, Iroh released his gaze from her nose and lips and dragged his pupils up to her eyes. He looked at her fully for a long moment, assessing, before finally speaking.

"Recently?" he asked mildly, blinking boredly.

"Yes," Korra replied, glaring at him. She was still mad that he had made her get nervous and flustered against the wall.

"You," he said simply, shrugging up his shoulders.

Again, Korra's jaw dropped inside her mouth. She forced herself to wait a few moments before speaking in order to keep from stuttering. She eyed the innocuous notebook that he had stolen from her wandering hands and placed stolidly on his desk.

"W-What do you write?"

Iroh stared at her speculatively a moment more, as if measuring her carefully, before finally answering.

"Would you like me to recite it for you?" he asked politely. Korra blinked, not sure what she to expect; what she _had been_ expecting.

"Uhh...m Sure."

Iroh swallowed deeply before he placed both hands on his armrests and pushed himself up off the seat. He walked around the desk to face Korra, staring down at her, before placing his hand over the thick black bound poetry book.

He closed his eyes, hand spread over the front cover. "_They had been friends in youth_," he whispered.

His eyes opened and locked on hers. Moving closer, he positioned his mouth beside her ear. His breath tickled her check and blew stray strands of hair above her face. "_...but whispering tongues can poison truth._"

"_Constancy lives in realms above_," he placed his forehead on her clavicle. Closing his eyes, he spoken again. "_Life is thorny_," he said jarringly. "_And youth is vain_." He pressed his nose into her collarbone.

He paused for a long moment, not moving. "_And to be wroth with one we love_," he stopped. "_Doth work like madness in the brain_," he finished finally, inhaling sharply against her skin.

His head remained burrowed in her collarbones and a long moment passed between the two of them. He waited for her to speak, his eyes staring apocalyptically down at the blue of her top.

He felt her heartbeat accelerate, the tenseness she usually adopted when he came. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"To be wroth we one we love..." she repeated, "Doth work like madness in the brain..." she whispered quietly.

She paused for another moment. "You... you love me?" Korra asked with surprise.

Iroh smiled a small, rueful grin before lifting his face up from the front of her neck. He looked down at her.

"Perhaps. Maybe. The feelings, when I look at you, delude me."

Korra stared up at him at him critically. She quietly measured his face for a long time, an eyebrow cocked suspiciously.

"You..." she hesitated and then paused abruptly. "I don't believe you," she declared, sticking her chin out and looking away. "You're just trying to mess with me."

Iroh resisted the urge to let out a full-blown chuckle. "Alright then. If you say say so." He grinned and a twinkle in his eyes sparkled as he lifted himself up from her and turned around.

He walked away to the armoire sitting in his room and opened it up. From inside, he procured a beautiful blue sky opal necklace, emboldened with red twine chain for tying behind the neck.

After a two-second pause of staring at it with his back turned to face her, he finally turned around with it in his hand. "This is for you."

Korra blinked, surprised, looking down at the object in his hands being transferred to hers.

"Did you... did you buy this for..." she paused. "Because..."

_Because you like me?_

"I bought it for my sister," he denied, frowning down at the necklace. "I always thought you were something of a sister to me, so I bought it for a sister on my journeys. You were someone for whom I've always felt feelings of endearment," he went on, "so I thought my affection for you was akin to that of a sibling's. And then I came to Republic City and saw..." he hesitated, as if extremely disturbed by his thoughts, "... that you had probably never been my sister..."

Iroh felt his face heating. And for some unbeknownst reason, Korra found the same happening to hers.

Undoubtedly it was because she'd _changed_ since the last time he'd seen her, he thought. The opal dangled in her hands.

"Oh."

Iroh noted the hesitance in her voice.

"Do you..." he suddenly paused. Iroh, for the first time since he could last remember, blinked self-consciously. He, of course, had also considered the other possibility. "I don't know if you feel the same way. Its okay if you don't."

If possible, Korra blushed even deeper. She was used to shouting her feelings out. But for some reason, Iroh had always made her feel vulnerable in a way that no one else ever had.

"I... I don't honestly know. But I think the answers' pretty obvious," Korra muttered, looking away. It was glaringly obvious. And embarrassing.

He had always made butterflies flutter in her stomach. Since she was 13. But he was always unreachable, for her. It was only this time around, his visit to Republic City, that she finally began to notice _tension_ between the two of them. A different sort of tension. Something that suggested that he felt the same way.

She had never thought that he would consider reciprocating her childish and immature affections. Honestly, she hadn't thought of him in the longest while, at least not in _that_ way. Moving to Republic City had distracted her and scattered her brain with an onslaught of so many new people. Momentarily, she had been distracted of his existence. Distracted by Mako, Bolin, Tenzin, Pema, Toza, Asami, Meelo... everyone else she'd met.

The awkward butterflies he used to inspire within her when she was young was a thing of her past, in her distant memories. She hadn't expected them to return upon Iroh's subsequent return. She felt that she had aged incredibly since coming to the city; that everything from back in the South Pole was a part of a distant childhood. Iroh would be a part of it.

Yet, when he came here, it all came flooding back. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't let it go.

Iroh grinned down at her mischievously. "Don't worry. I won't pressure you into anything," he said, his voice suggestive. "...I'm sure precious Mako would teach me a lesson if I do."

Korra laughed. Thinking of Mako still made her stomach ache and her mood darken but somehow, somehow Iroh made her forget about her conflict with him.

"Mako—Ugh. Please don't talk about him."

"Yeah, I figured," he grinned at her.

Another long moment passed between them. The comfortable silence broke as Iroh walked forward to her. His arms slipped around her waist and the two embraced. They stood like that for a while before he finally let go and spoke. "It doesn't have to mean anything... yet. Just—Its for you to know that I'll be thinking of you."

He understood that she was still seventeen. Seventeen and the Avatar. Seventeen and unready.

He was twenty-three and a Fire Lord in training. Twenty-three and unsure. Twenty-three and ready.

They both had duties, responsibilities, their possessions, and limited time. Korra nodded over his shoulder. He smiled, relieved, before he spoke,

"Guess we should go down for dinner now, huh?"

Korra's stomach growled loudly, to his amusement.

"Heheh... Let's," she responded, grinning awkwardly and looking off to the direction of the door.

Iroh placed his hand around the back of her waist and walked them forward.

"If you want..." he suddenly said, "I don't have to..." he paused, gesturing at his arm set around the back of her waist. It was the polite thing to do with a girl with whom one had confessed. But he wasn't sure how comfortable she would be with it. "do... _this_."

"We'll... We'll see," she responded uncomfortably. She wasn't sure about this. It was too new territory.

With an indiscernible frown, Iroh turned and locked his door before walking forward in the hall. As they walked down the corridors, he whispered into her ear.

It was a realization he had come to just the other fortnight, once he had realized the magnitude of the feelings he felt for her. The affection, the lust, the inexplicable desire to protect her.

"I realized the other day," he said softly into her ear, "that we were probably destined to meet." His eyes closed and his lips touched her right ear gently. "To be, somehow." he finished.

Korra shivered, feeling his breath traveling into her ear tunnel. She could feel his wet lips close to her face, and the feeling of his mouth against her earlobe traveled all the way to her midsection. She sighed breathily as he spoke. Iroh's eyes darkened upon hearing her exhale.

She was so malleable. So sensual and pliable and strong and unmovable, without even knowing so. When had she turned into this? This contradiction?

Was it before his eyes? All he knew know was that his fingers resisted the urge to tighten into her hips, and that there was a growing discomfort in his loins upon hearing her sigh. He knew that in some of their lifetimes, _all_ of their lifetimes, they had been destined to meet. _Somehow._

The Avatar and the crowned Prince to the Fire Lord had always had intertwined fates.

_It was expected_, he thought.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was kind of long... But if you liked it, please review! Even if you have any criticisms, I'd like to hear your thoughts! I update fast if you guys review, yo! :) :) :)**

**I read EVERY single one and they all count!**


	6. Forgive Me

**Chapter 6: Forgive Me**

* * *

General Iroh and Korra were sparring out on the front lawn of the Air Temple.

They flipped and spun over and around each other. Waves of fire and flashes of flame reverberated through the lawn as the two stood on opposite sides of the field. In the room behind them, Tenzin suppressed a deep frown. Air Temple grounds were not made for firebending.

But the Councilman could not simply say 'no' to the General and the Avatar. Although he might be allowed to boss around the Avatar or give suggestions to the General, together, the Avatar and General were unapproachable. Two incredibly powerful people, both bent on doing something, could not be denied. Tenzin knew this and frowned, trying to pretend it _wasn't_ happening outside, he sipped his coffee with a poorly hidden grimace lined upon his face.

Mako stood in front of the opened front window and watched them, eyes drooped. His face, rather than frowning in displeasure, was simply apathetic. Ever fiber of his being was telling him to _look away_... but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny that it was mesmerizing. _Loath_worthy_._

They moved in long, wide and precise, flowing and powerful movements. Remarkable; nothing like modern firebending forms or what was used in the arena. The forms they used were aged and nuanced. Small, minute movements and shifts in their postures proved that they were both well-trained to bend sophisticatedly in a particular, impeccable, old way_._ Their bending was an _art_. No one firebended in this way anymore.

Centuries beyond centuries ago, when the term 'Agni Kai' had first emerged from a remote village in the Fire Nation, _this_ is what firebending had _been_. Nowadays, the term 'Agni Kai' didn't signify anything except for the name of Republic City's downtown gang.

The two were focusing hard, sweat beading at their brows, the heat surrounding them. They glared at one other and moved in sync, flowing perfectly with each other's particular, precise moves. Of course they would be in sync—they had grown up learning the same form.

Mako had never had a firebending master from who to learn. Bending teachers were expensive and the brothers hadn't been able to afford them. All the knowledge in his possession had been either self-taught or solicited. He and Bolin had joined the Triple Threats to pick up training tips from the gangmembers. They left soonafter they had had been instructed in the basics. Most orphan benders got sucked into the lifestyle, though.

After leaving the Triple Threats, the brothers had begun sneaking into probending games, attempting to hone their skills by learning from observation from afar. When Toza caught them, the earthbending trainer had assessed their skills before finally offering Bolin instruction. Earthbending was a notoriously harder skill to take control of, as opposed firebending, which often came naturally.

Mako had to teach himself how to bend lightening in order to work as a generator at the electric plant. He'd scrounged up instructional texts and occasionally snuck in to watch the benders at work and copy their forms.

It was lucky that the two brothers had been born benders. Orphans on the streets of Republic City were usually handed early deaths due to harsh winters and the lack of ability to protect their makeshift shelters. Even if untrained, the two had scrounged up enough of their talents to at least scare away the other orphans from their shelter. And together, they had enough family to not seek solace in one of the bending gangs of the city, which often comprised of runaway or orphaned bending children seeking a sense of family.

Mako's talents had either been self-taught or learned on the streets. He had never had a master from whom to learn.

He watched General Iroh and Korra, who had both so obviously honed their skills under expensive instructors for years. They were both _trained. _Each and every one of their moves radiated with years of practiced perfection and hard tutelage.

Each move was purposeful, elegant and smooth. They were both using the ancient, traditional style, characterized by wide sweeps, full arcs and high kicks. Mako's eyes drooped down, unable to move away from their forms. It was nothing like firebending used the arena.

It was an _art_ and they were _dancing_. They were perfectly in sync; each blow was countered by a trained defense.

The two were dancing an age-old dance to which they both knew the steps.

* * *

When Iroh and Korra came down to dinner later that night, the two had seemed closer to each other than before. And it irked Mako.

They had gone out that day and they had taken Naga. Surprisingly enough, the General hadn't been accompanied by his bodyguards. It was strange and odd to see the guy without soldiers flanking him. He looked naked. Mako wasn't quite sure if they were there because he was the Crowned Fire Prince, or because he was the General.

Nevertheless, he went out, alone with her. And when they came downstairs for dinner later that night, they seemed closer together than before.

It bothered Mako. It bothered him so much that he actually _realized_ it bothered him. And that realization was what had made him shut up and not speak a word throughout the entire dinner.

His face was trained into a blank slate, the food on his plate moving silently about. He didn't look their way. He couldn't. For some reason... it hurt too much.

He didn't even feel any anger boil up within him. He knew he wasn't allowed to be angry. His face was blank. A clean slate of emotionlessness.

But that was two nights ago.

Today was the day—the day that the city was finally in a stage of full reparation and rebuilding. The rejoice that shortly followed the battle had passed and people began working now. Korra had agreed to go with him to check out the state of the probending arena. They would assess the damage done and see if they could help out with it. She, afterall, _was_ a Master Waterbender and the Avatar, and the arena stood up on the bay.

So, for the first time in weeks, since the battle, the two were alone together and the air between them was silent. It, to their great relief, was without any tension, but Mako simply refused to look her way or given her any attention out of favor. Out of respect, it felt like; he felt like he didn't deserve to.

They surveyed the broken building, and the silence shimmered golden.

He couldn't find a thing to say with her. Memories of her moving closely with Iroh for the past two days kept on flashing over his eyes. He felt the distanced immediately; it was self-imposed.

He felt chastised. Because he knew he wasn't allowed to object. He couldn't have a thing to say, and that bothered him. So he stayed quiet.

But then it got to the boiling point.

Moving through the wreckage, brushing arms, fingers with her. It made something deep ache in his heart, even as the visage of Iroh and Korra laughing over their lunch that day filtered through his head.

It ached so hard that he wasn't _allowed_ to speak.

"Look! What is _wrong_ with you?" Korra finally exclaimed, backing him into a corner. She had turned around and her face was irritated, looking like it was ready to burst. Mako's head jerked back; he hadn't expected her outburst. He thought she'd prefer it this way.

"I am _sick_ of you being moody and cold and distant all day," she continued. "Did I _do_ something to make you mad?" she asked, annoyed.

Mako stared down at her agitated form, eyes wide and utterly surprised. A quiet moment passed before them as he stared down at her and reassessed her speech.

_Yes, you _have_ done something wrong._

_But I don't have anything to say about it._

And staring down at the girl with tanned skin, a fierce attitude, and even fiercer temper, another pang ached and reverberated in his heart. And he gave up.

He shifted his body and turned around her so that his back was to the center of the room. He moved a bit closer to her. They were surrounded in dust, debree, and charcoal, standing in a burnt corner of the gym below the arena.

"Korra..." Mako whispered, staring down at her smaller form, his eyes piercing. _I hope you can see everything I can't say to you_. Korra blinked, meeting his intense golden-brown eyes.

She couldn't help but want to push herself closer to him. Closer to his chest. Whereas with Iroh she felt fluttered and nervous and wanted to push herself away in her nervousness, Mako just made her want _more of him_.

"Mako..." she repeated quietly. They stood close together, still for another moment.

Then, his hand quickly sweeped up behind her head to brush a strand of hair forward. He brought it to sit upon her shoulder. He didn't say anything, just stared down into her face and fingered the single lock with his hand. It tensed and untensed upon her shoulder.

He _couldn't _say anything. He _couldn't. _Asami was still his girlfriend and Korra...

Korra was still a girl whom he could not stop admiring, no matter _how_ hard he tried. And he had tried... So, _so_ hard.

He wasn't right for Avatar Korra. He knew that. She was the _Avatar_, for goodness' sake. She was a better fit with General Iroh. He matched her skills and expertise... Someone whom she'd known since childhood. Someone who'd be nothing but perfectly suited for her.

Yet, he couldn't let it go. The strand of hair he twirled between his two fingers over her right shoulder was the only way he was connected to her. And he couldn't let it go. Didn't want to... let it go. His hand, wanting to touch her cheek instead of the strands of her hair—so close, yet _so_ far from her face. He knew he couldn't touch her.

Not with the way he was now.

Not with Asami, with his past, what he'd said and done to her before. Not with his soiled skin and dirt beneath his fingernails.

But _god_, how _much_ he wanted to. It made the feeling of his heart thumping within his chest literally _ache_. He wanted to touch her _so_ bad. This enigma, this embodiment of a revolution, this... this girl he couldn't stop being enamored by.

Quickly, his hand slid around her head and he pulled her head to his shoulder. He made sure she couldn't see his face when he said this, that her eyes were stolidly pushed up against his right shoulder.

"Korra... Korra, I like you," he whispered into her hair, pushing her head against his shoulder and pressing his cheek hard into her hair. "Forgive me, Agni, but I think I'm in love with you. And I don't know what to do about it."

He heard her pause, and then hesitate, relaxing.

"Yeah..." she finally said, sounding, all at once, speechless, unsurprised, and angry.

Angry because of all the pain she'd put her through. Speechless because she hadn't quite expected this... Unsurprised... because she had sort of always known.

But, _angry_ because it was him.

It was _him_, Mako, and she knew that that created a whole mess of other things. It was _Mako. _

And the problem was that she liked him back.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter wasn't so good. I just wanted to get it out by tonight :(**

**Thank you for all of your reviews. They are precisely the reason I'm updating so quickly quickly quickly daily quickly :)) Please keep on reviewing!**


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